Dahlia
by Firebird1
Summary: *CHAPTER THREE NOW UP*A retelling of Cinderella. Has a small dark twist. Remains somewhat true to the original but still quite different. Please R/R. Thanks!
1. Introduction

Ok so this is my first attempt at working off anything existing. I've never written a real fanfic and never based any of my stories off existing one so please be nice. I admit the chapter isn't very exciting but I needed to set up the story. I promise more interesting stuff in the upcoming chapters!! However to do that I want reviews. I'm starting to think no one likes my writing so I need encouragement...I know I'm selfish. Thank you in advance :)  
  
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"Enid give me my hat back right now. Mother! Oh where the hell is she? Don't think you're going to get away with this! You look horrible in yellow anyway, you'll never win over Geoffrey's affection. I'm the one with the looks. Mother!"   
  
Dahlia sighed and continued to peel the potatoes piles up in front of her. For as long as she could remember her step-sisters had been obsessed with finding the ideal husband. Now that they were of actual age things had only gotten worse. Anyone with an eligible son suddenly became the family's closest friends and confidants. This of course meant that their was a great increase in the number of house guests and an increased amount of work for Dahlia to do. Tonight she was to create a sumptuous dinner for a close knit circle of eighteen.  
  
For a normal wealthy family this would be of no consequence for the kitchen staff would consist of at least five workers, however Dahlia's stepmother, whom she was told to call Mrs. Haverfield, felt that they were not in need of so many employees and had fired the entire staff. Seeing Dahlia as an expendable member of the family, Mrs. Haverfield had sent her to work in the kitchen. Soon after, the kitchen also became her bedroom. She slept on a pile of straw near the fireplace. Often the drafts in the room would blow the cinders into her face and she was constantly smeared with ash. In fact the only part of her that was even relatively clean were her hands which she washed regularly so as to not dirty her family's food.  
  
She greatly hoped that her step-sisters would marry off soon. She knew that there was no escape from her life but if her load lightened up a little then she might find her living conditions bearable. Who was she kidding? Her life would never lighten up, if she had less food to prepare then her stepmother would merely find other duties for her to perform. No, her sisters would be well married and she would spend the rest of her days wishing she was in their shoes.  
  
She often felt guilty for hating her family so but she couldn't help it. She had not been so young when her father had married Mrs. Haverfield as to not remember the life that had come before she'd arrived. She had been close to her father. They had gone horseback riding almost every afternoon and spent hours upon hours laughing at the most trivial things.   
  
That had changed quite rapidly once she'd gained a new stepmother. Mrs. Haverfield was a devious and controlling woman. She had begun by simply getting Dahlia's father to spend more money on her daughter's then on Dahlia. Dahlia was slightly angered but not to a great extent for she truly cared only for her father's love. After a while her father began to realize that the new Mrs. Haverfield was not at all like his old wife whom he had loved dearly. He sank into a stupor and began to drink heavily. With her husband constantly incapacitated Mrs. Haverfield was given free rein over the household. It was then that she had fired the kitchen staff.  
  
The door upstairs suddenly crashed open. Her father was home. While continuing to peel potatoes, Dahlia listened carefully to her fathers footsteps. They appeared to be coming closer and closer. A thud echoed through the kitchen and Dahlia reluctanly put down the knife and potatoe she was holding. She went to the cupboard and drew out a washing basin and quickly run up the stairs.  
  
As usual her father was lying face down on the floor about three feet from his bed. She placed the basin on the grand and picked her father up. Though he was quite a bit bigger then her small frame she didn't have much trouble for she had built some very strong arm muscles in the past years. She lay him down on the bed, near the side so that if he turned over he could reach the basin. Noticing that his nose was bleeding, she pulled a rag out of her pocket and wiped it off. At least he hadn't broken it again. One would think that a drunk man could pass out on his back once in a while but not him, always face first right  
on his nose.  
  
A clock struck three and the chimes echoed ominously through the house. Dahlia cursed silently under her breath and raced downstairs hoping against hope that for once she would be able to complete the task assigned to her. 


	2. An invitation, cloth, and the woods

Dahlia rolled her eyes as she continued to listen to the squabbling going on upstairs. The dinner had been quite successful and now all Enid and Arium could talk about was how wonderful Geoffrey Hampton was and how obvious it was that he was in love with them. Mrs. Haverfield naturally voiced her agreement but encouraged her girls not to give him all their attention, for there were many worthy gentlemen and they didn't want to break any hearts, not yet.  
  
Mrs. Haverfield was no fool and Dahlia believed her comments were more of a reaction to Mr. Hampton's character than out of concern that her daughters would break too many hearts. Mr. Hampton was a very spoiled son and lived his life exactly as he wished. A wife was the last thing on his list. He wasn't in need of the money a dowry would bring in, for his father was wealthy; and he wasn't in need of pleasure, for rumor had it that he visited the local brothel's quite frequently. That only left love, and as far as Dahlia was concerned, that was never going to happen. Love was a thing of legend. It would take a goddess to get Geoffrey Hampton to marry, and neither of her step-sisters fit that description.  
  
However, her opinion and observations didn't matter. Mrs. Haverfield would fill her girls up with lies until they were convinced that it was them who had decided not to pursue Mr. Hampton. Then they would move to another victim who didn't have the common sense to avoid marriage. Until that day came, Dahlia would just stand around doing dishes, as she was doing now, and listening to her family discuss the future and all its possibilities, something Dahlia knew she could never be able to do.  
  
She suddenly looked up when she heard a bell ring, and was surprised to see it wasn't the one hooked up to the breakfast room but the one hooked up to the front door. Putting the pan down, she quickly dried her hands on her skirt and hurried to the front of the house.  
  
Opening the door, she was greeted by the sight of a young man dressed in a light blue coat and matching breeches. Behind him she could see an ornately decorated coach. Just below the window, gilded in gold, was a picture of a griffin. That's when Dahlia finally grasped the enormity of this man's visit. Shifting her gaze back to the man standing in front of her, she saw him give her a small bow and then stick out his left hand. She gently pulled the letter out of his hand, and then gave him a small curtsy in return. She watched the carriage until it faded into the distance and then hurried to the breakfast room to deliver the message to Mrs. Haverfield.  
  
Mrs. Haverfield had been miffed when Dahlia interrupted her breakfast, but all anger was lost upon the opening of the prized letter. Her eyes grew a bit larger, her nostrils flared, and there was even a hint of a smile on her usually stoic face but she did not read the letter out loud, and it drove her daughters into a frenzy. They too had seen the emblem imprinted on the letter and were eager to know what royalty wanted of them. Dahlia knew it had nothing to do with her and so stood silently behind Mrs. Haverfield's left shoulder, quietly hoping that it would be a notice of arrest. Judging from her step-mother's reaction though, she was going to be horribly disappointed. Besides, there had been no guardsmen left behind to carry out an arrest.  
  
The only one in the room who was not interested in the crisp, white sheet of paper held tightly in Mrs. Haverfield's right hand was Dahlia's father. She could not tell, however, if this was from lack of curiosity or simply from being oblivious. However he did raise his head when Mrs. Haverfield began to speak, which startled Dahlia, for she suddenly realized that he was fairly lucid this morning.  
  
"My dears, we've had remarkably good news from the royal castle." There was a glint in her eyes as she gazed at her two daughters. "It has finally become time for the prince to get married, and he is having a ball to which he's inviting all eligible maidens to come. Naturally, meaning the noble daughters. It seems the royal family has finally come to its senses and will stop allowing ignorant, uncivilized foreigners to marry into their family. Unfortunately we only have a week to get ready! So my dears, it's time to make a fabric selection so that we can send her on her way." She said the last line with a flick of her wrist to indicate Dahlia behind her.  
  
"Oh, I want a gold dress mama!" Enid shouted out eagerly.  
  
"Gold my dear? Perhaps that material might be a bit...overwhelming for the prince." She tried to hold back a grimace but was only partially successful.  
  
"Mama! You know that's not fair. You said we could always have the fabric of our choosing. Gold would be perfect, for it will show our wealth."  
  
"Very Well. What would you like, Arium?" There was really nothing Mrs. Haverfield could do if one of her daughters had made up her mind. They were more stubborn than a mule stuck in mud and had less of a brain. However, Dahlia knew she would have to search throughout the fabric shop for a dull gold that might actually compliment Enid's complexion instead of overpowering her.  
  
"White."  
  
"White?"  
  
"Yes, white. It's the color of purity."  
  
"Ah, okay. Well I guess that just leaves me then." Dahlia smiled to herself when she heard Arium's choice. Her step-sisters really had no clue about fashion. White was only worn when one was getting married and at special church occasions. Though no one would say anything to her, it would definitely be looked upon as odd as soon as she showed up at the ball. However with Mrs. Haverfield's last comment on how she was the only one left, Dahlia felt a sudden wave of sadness rush over her. She knew that she would not be invited, but still deep down inside she knew that she belonged at the ball. After all, she too was a noble. Her father carried an even higher title than Mrs. Haverfield which Dahlia shared, but her step-sisters did not. However, it was not to be. She would simply make their dresses and watch them enter their carriage and fade off into the distance just like the messenger had.   
  
She waited patiently for Mrs. Haverfield to decide on a color but after a short time her eyes began to wander. Enid and Arium were whispering quietly to each other with huge grins plastered on their faces. They were no doubt speaking of how the prince would fall instantly in love with them. It was possible that the prince would like them, Dahlia mused, but fairly unlikely. They did have good manners and knew of social graces but they lacked beauty and wit. Men usually preferred girls with one of the two traits. While her step-sisters were not ugly they lacked any features that could make truly beautiful. As for wit, they could talk about clothes and the aristocracy but they were unaware that there was anything to talk about besides those two topics.  
  
Her gaze shifted to her father, whom she was surprised to see staring right back at her. He had a thoughtful look upon his face but Dahlia could not figure out why. She gave him a tiny smile and a questioning look but all he did was continue to stare at her. So much for communication, she thought to herself and returned her gaze back to Mrs. Haverfield, trying to ignore the eyes that were boring into her. It was with great relief that she heard Mrs. Haverfield finally make her decision.  
  
"Mauve. A mauve dress would be perfect for the occasion. It's the color of femininity and will bring out the color of my cheekbone." Not to mention that pink is the most fashionable color this season, Dahlia thought quietly to herself. "Hurry along now Dahlia. There's lots to be done when you return." And with that Dahlia had been dismissed. She rushed out the door grabbing her shawl along the way, thankful for the chance to get some fresh air. She followed the road into town, knowing that if she cut across the grass her step-mother would most likely see her and punish her upon her return.  
  
She arrived at the fabric store quite content, for she had not passed any loud carts and was given the chance to simply enjoy listening to the birds. The shopkeeper greeted her warmly, for he had known her since before her mother had died and held a place in his heart for her. He himself had four daughters and liked to think of Dahlia as his fifth, but he never came to visit, as he knew of her current situation and held no love for Mrs. Haverfield.  
  
Dahlia's good mood quickly vanished after searching throughout the store for some decent cloth that would please them. Mrs. Haverfield's request had been easy to fulfill since the color she had selected had been requested several times in the past week, but the other two colors were not so easy. First she searched for Arium's white. She had found some white cotton easily enough but she knew the material to be too plain for a ball. Satin would not do either for it would look like a wedding dress. That left silk, which it took nearly a half hour to find. The gold caused a little less trouble but Dahlia still found it hard to find a color that would not cause Enid to look washed out yet still please the girl. With a total of an hour spent trying to find the right fabric, Dahlia was nearly frantic to get home. Mrs. Haverfield would undoubtedly be furious. The shopkeeper promised that the fabric would be delivered the next day and Dahlia quickly thanked him before running out the door.  
  
Quickly weighing in her mind the levels of punishment, Dahlia decided that she should take a shortcut through the forest. It would be better to be dirty than late. Her looks would not be appealing but at least they wouldn't affect the amount of work she'd be able to get done. Besides, she enjoyed walking through the woods. It was always so peaceful. It was true that she probably wouldn't be able to enjoy it much since she was in such a hurry, but perhaps the quiet would help ease her mind.  
  
It did end up giving her a false sense of calm. She'd gone through those woods hundreds of times and so even in her hurried state she gazed up at the treetops and watched the sun filtering through the branches. It was in this state of oblivious bliss that she suddenly felt a hand wrap around her mouth and another wrap around her waist.  
  
A different man came out from behind her holding several pieces of dirty, burgundy cloth strips. The first was used as a gag and the hand on her mouth was only gone for a second before she felt the soiled rag inside her mouth. She then had her back shoved up against a tree and her hands were pulled around the trunk and tied together.  
  
That was when the third man showed up. He was very good looking with sharp features and shoulder length black hair. The look in his eyes were anything but handsome. They were blue, the palest blue that Dahlia had ever seen but there was a glint in his eyes that Dahlia feared. Even Mrs. Haverfield had never given her a look such as that. He came right up to her and looked her straight in the eye. He gave vicious sneer and then spat in her face. Her automatic reaction was to move her head back, but she just smacked her head against the tree and he let out a deep chuckle.  
  
"Why shy away from it my dear? God knows you need a bath. Dirt everywhere, all over your clothing and even your face. Hell, even your eyes are brown. Nothing but dirt, though I guess it's fitting, for that's what you are. Dirt. Meant to be walked upon and completely forgotten." Dahlia did not pay much attention to his words but frantically tried to figure out what exactly she'd gotten herself into. There were only three of them and the man standing in front of her was dressed in merchant's clothes, but she had an odd suspicion that that wasn't what he was. The other two men appeared to be under his command and stood off to the side staring at her with daggers. She soon realized the situation when she felt the man's hand on her skirt.   
  
Her skirt was lifted almost up to her head but he made sure that he could look into her eyes to see the reaction to his actions. She felt a searing pain shoot through her and tried to cry out but the rag simply choked her. She saw a small smirk on his face and as the pain continued she could not stop the tears from falling. His smile broadened but then he gave out a large grunt and let her skirt drop.  
  
He nodded to one of his men and he untied her hands. She merely slumped to the ground shaking uncontrollably. She heard hoofbeats suddenly and realized that the horses must have been behind her. She lay on the ground for a long time after the last hoofbeats had faded away but she knew the longer she waited, the harsher her punishment would be. She stood up shakily but soon collapsed to the ground. So she stumbled home half crawling, half hobbling until she reached the door, upon which she was greeted with the sight of her step-mother sitting in a plush chair waiting for her return.  
  
  
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So what did you think? It's a lot longer than the first chapter at least. I'm terribly sorry it took me so long to write the next chapter but I was on vacation for a month and a half and...well, I rather forgot about it. I promise however that it won't happen again! I would like some more feedback on this chapter. I'm not sure I'm happy with it. Not completely as I thought it would be. *sigh* Oh well, I'm never happy with my chapters.  
  
Anyhoo thanks to my chapter one reviewers!   
Waterlily - Ok so I didn't exactly write more soon but I hope you continue to read anyway.   
Kirjava - Well that would pretty much be how it gets darker. I mean there are elements throughout the story that are somewhat dark but I didn't want to make it too depressing of a story. As for the father, I think you're right that it would be neat to draw him in more but I'm not sure how quite yet. I guess you'll have to keep reading to find out:)   
Jenny the Chica - Thanks for the congrats and I'm glad you like it.  
Stuntwoman - I'm glad you find this story appealing. Hmmm, The Little Mermaid huh? I don't think I've seen many retellings of that story.  
Blazing-moon - I'm glad you like her name. I actually think I'd decided on her name before I had the story. Pretty silly right? Oh well that's me.  
Zackire - Ah, more chapters. I'm working on it!  
Angel of Drama - Yeah I think the relationship between the two (Dahlia and her father) is going to be pretty important. I always hated that she just obeyed her step-mother. I mean what would she put up with it for. But if she has emotional attachment to one of them it makes more sense that she would accept such treatment.  
The Excessively Loud Waterfowl - I love Ever After!! Though I'm trying not to be influenced by it. I wouldn't want to get in any trouble for it. As for dramatic scenes....we'll see. I'm not particularly good at drama but I'm trying. 


	3. Late Night

Dahlia gently lowered herself onto the pile of straw that lay before the fireplace. She had spent all day sewing and trying to turn the hideous cloth that her step-sisters had chosen into something befitting of a royal ball. She wasn't sure that even the king's tailor could accomplish such a task. It had been a frustrating day to say the least. Now, however, the moon had fully risen and she was glad for the short break.  
  
No sooner had she lain down when she heard a tapping coming from the outside door. Letting out a small groan, she hoisted herself up off the ground and opened up the door.  
  
"Oh, Dahlia, I was so worried!" Before she knew it, Dahlia was wrapped up in a huge hug. The intensity of the hug, however, made her whimper and her friend immediately let go. She was a fairly short girl with long, red, curly hair and bright green eyes that usually sparkled with mischief. "Did I hurt you? She got to you again, didn't she? I heard a commotion two nights ago but I had hoped that she would only yell. I should've known better."  
  
"Gabrielle, you worry too much. I'm fine, honestly. Besides, Mrs. Haverfield is far too concerned with preparations for the ball to do anything further. She hardly even notices I'm here."  
  
"I don't know how you can take it. You know you're better than them. If only you'd let me give them a piece of my mind."  
  
"And then what? They'd say I was ungrateful and put you up to it and then they'd beat me worse than they do now. Or perhaps you think they would suddenly realize that they were in the wrong? After that of course life would be fantastic and I would grow in a state of bliss until the day that I wed a dashing young prince."  
  
"Well, there's no harm in dreaming."  
  
"Of course there is. People get themselves in trouble and even killed from trying to follow their dreams and not realizing that it's impossible. Everyone can't have their dreams come true; it just doesn't work like that."  
  
"Now there's a positive outlook. Besides, who knows, perhaps you shall win the favor of the prince at the ball."  
  
"You must not have all your pieces today, Gabrielle. Do you think I would ever be allowed to attend the ball?" Dahlia saw her friend about to give a retort but did not allow her enough time to speak. "Besides, he'd be much more likely to fall for you with your charm and stunning hair." She gave her friend a playful wink.  
  
"Ah, but you forget, I am part of the bourgeoisie and not of noble birth and therefore am not invited." She said this with such a regretful sigh that Dahlia wished with all sincerity that she could help. However, Gabrielle and her family were well known throughout the region and if she appeared at the ball it would be immediately pointed out that she was indeed not a member of the noble class. "You on the other hand are, and of higher blood than that pig who thinks she runs the house. Seriously, with a new dress and a bath to get that grime off your face you'd be all set. You could simply avoid being near your family since there will be many there, although I doubt she would recognize you. Then you would be free to simply stand there in all your radiance and draw the prince in."  
  
"Ah yes, me with my enormous salary is going to buy a new dress and then hire a coach to drive me to the ball. I appreciate what you're trying to do Gabrielle, but filling my head with dreams just makes the reality harder to live with."  
  
"All right, I'm sorry. I'll drop the subject. Just let me see the bruises. I'm sure you haven't been taking care of them as usual." Dahlia let out an exasperated sigh but obeyed and turned around so that Gabrielle could unbutton the back of her dress. She heard the girl gasp but was grateful that she said nothing.   
  
Gabrielle then sent Dahlia to lie down on the hay while she retrieved the healing solvent from the cabinet. Upon her return, she quickly dug her fingers into the sticky substance and got to work. She carefully spread it onto the blackened bruises scattered over Dahlia's back. She kept a careful balance between pressing hard enough for the substance to stick to the bruises but no so hard that Dahlia would feel any more pain.  
  
"Always where they can be hidden," Gabrielle muttered to herself. When she was done she left the back of Dahlia's dress open so that the solvent could dry. Standing up, she noticed Dahlia's only other dress, torn from her last beating, hanging next to the fireplace. Her eyebrows slowly creased in thought and the left corner of her mouth turned up just a bit.  
  
"Dahlia?"  
  
"Yeah?" Dahlia turned her tired brown eyes to her friend who stood transfixed by the tattered dress.  
  
"Do you mind if I take your dress home and mend it?" Dahlia gave her a funny look.  
  
"If you truly have nothing better to -"  
  
"Thanks!" Gabrielle practically ran to the dress and tore it off it's hanger. A smile spread across her face. She headed towards the door but not before bending down and giving Dahlia a small kiss on the top of her forehead. "'Night, princess," she whispered as she shut the door behind her. Dahlia simply let out a small snort and then fell quickly into a heavy slumber.  
  
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A/N: So what do you all think? I admit nothing much happens in this chapter except talking and it is fairly short but....-well it needs to be there. Any guesses on what's going to happen later? What's good? What needs to be fixed? Feedback would be loverly.  
  
And to the chapter two reviewers: THANK YOU!!  
  
Caboodles5588 : I'm glad you like it! Yes, it is a bit different but I'm hoping that makes it a bit more interesting.  
  
Hannah: I am not mean!!...Well ok at times I'm a bit sadistic. Ah yes the question of who were those guys, and this chapter still doesn't answer that question. I promise there will be an explanation eventually.  
  
Notawannabe: Yeah it is rather sad but I think that makes it a bit more realistic. Glad you like it anyway!  
  
Bliss: Thank you! I try to make my stories interesting and I wanted this to have a bit of a dark edge though I'm not quite ready to write a truly depressing story yet.  
  
Kristina: Well, it didn't come out that soon but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Thanks for the support. 


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